Yolo County CA Archives History - Books .....Chapter IV. 1904 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ca/cafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Peggy Perazzo pbperazzo@comcast.net January 4, 2006, 1:10 pm Book Title: Recollections Of A Busy Life Mother. I wish you to know more about mother, and as the sheep have been sheared and the wool washed and she is to begin the making of garments for the family it will be a good time to see her at work. She is small or of medium size, weighs 120 pounds. Not pretty, but looks good; hair curls on each temple - says they are her scolding locks; brown hair, and she has a double right to that, for her name was Brown before marriage. She takes a chair and then picks up some cards. What you say? She isn't going to play cards? Yes, watch her and see if she don't. She takes a card in left hand with handle from her and covers it evenly with wool, then takes a card in right hand, cards the wool till both cards are even full, then with a reverse motion the wool is taken from the cards and made into rolls some two feet long. It takes some days, besides the housework, to card the wool into rolls. And it is not uncommon for her to work till midnight, while others are snoring in bed. Now she brings out her spinning wheel and gives it a whirl, puts on some coon's oil, tightens the band, picks up a roll, and, placing one end on the spindle turns the wheel slowly till the wool fastens to spindle. Then the wheel begins to sing as only a wheel can sing when driven by a master hand - energy, vim, satisfaction - all expressed in look and action, for she knew full well that no one could excel her at her work. When the spindle is full of yarn it is reeled off into skeins, then spooled, then when the warp is in the loom and the spool placed in the shuttle the weaving begins, and right and left goes the shuttle and bang, bang, goes the loom as yard after yard is made - some in square checks of red and blue for dresses or brown satinette for pants and coats (roundabouts). So on the farm is produced and in the house is made all the wearing apparel, for mother does the cutting and making without a sewing machine, for none are yet made. But each and every last one of us boys have served our apprenticeship in helping mother indoors. Many at time have we boys been glad to see company come, for then we could go out to work with the men on the farm. But I want you to see her more as she prepares to feed that throng of men that raise our barn. The great loaves of bread, the Johnny cake bread, the pies, etc. Then a fatted pig is dressed clean. Then the oven is made ready. Not a stove oven, for that was nowhere but an oven built outdoors on top of two short logs made of split pieces of wood and fastened together with a clay mortar. Size, 4 x 5 feet, 2 feet high, with door at one end and opening at back end to give draft. The fire is built inside and kept going till it is a white heat, then the wood and ashes are removed and the oven swept clear. Then in goes that pig, standing in a large tray, a pan, with a cob in his mouth (just for fun), and stuffed full of dressing, and the door is shut. Later in goes the bread, pies and cakes, and when the men sit around that long board table they have a feast fit for a king. Our Spring. The men are at the table this hot day and send me to the spring for a pail of that pure cold water. A log some five feet long, very hollow, only a shell, and some two and one-half feet in diameter has been sunk at the spring with a hole cut in the middle so it is half full, then the water runs out to the creek. I placed my knee on the edge of the curb and was just reaching to opposite side when a hawk flew among the hens and their furor caused me to look to the scene of trouble and my hand failed to reach the opposite side of the curb, and do you see how nicely I pitched, head first, into the spring? The next knowledge I had I was standing up in the spring. I realized the cooling sensation of the water as I took my first dive, but I did not reason about how to get out; the law of nature went to work when reason failed. I went to the house like a wet rat and my hair filled with dirt instead of taking a pail of water. Martin and the Hard Winters of 1842. Martin was a runaway boy. Ran away several times in Ohio. This autumn of 1842 he slyly tied up his belongings, went to Waterford, engaged to go up north with Mr. Moffat, and sailed from St. Joe to Muskegon, Mich. When it was known where he had gone father and mother wrote him a very affectionate letter to return home, where a warm welcome awaited him. When Martin received the letter the last boat of the season had just sailed for St. Joe. That was just as Mr. Moffat intended, for he wanted to keep Martin all winter. But Martin was just as determined then to go home as he was to go from home. He again tied up his belongings, and with food, blanket, flints and punk started on foot through forests and plains, over and through rivers alone. At night he clears away the snow in a fallen tree top, strikes his flints together till the sparks fly into the punk and soon has a fire. Matches were not yet made. Next day got in with two men that in his sympathy helped to materially lighten his lunch box. Bade them good-bye and trudged ahead through the snow that was falling every day, and fast at that, so it is getting to be hard work to travel. Nearing night, he comes to three men in a hut, who urge him to stop with them. It's a hard looking crew, but he stops, and is again relieved of nearly all his lunch, and the men are near starving. They urge him to stay and trust to luck, but no, we will all starve and I shall go ahead. That day he sighted a very large bear not far away. Luckily the wind was right, and Bruin did not see or smell him; and Martin had a good view of him, but says, "I would feast on his flesh, but if we should meet I am not sure which would have the feast," and he is willing the bear should pass on without a knowledge of his presence. Again he builds his fire, and another night passes with the whistling wind and the moaning trees for music, but not a mouthful to eat and clothes not dry, for he has already waded and swam several rivers, and there are two more yet, but this bitter cold may freeze them over. The snow has now reached a depth of three feet, and it is slow, hard work. It is getting dusk and the storm is wild and furious, and he comes to a haystack, so weak that it is an effort to get ahead in the deep snow. He digs a hole into the stack, but that is slow work, and he reasons, if I go to sleep will it not be my last sleep, and it is now dark; but joy, oh joy, in the dim distance is a light. Starts for the light and it is across a large marsh, and the storm of wind and snow, and such biting cold; he moves but slowly, and now he begins to feel warmer. But why do I feel warmer? I'm freezing, I'm freezing, that's why I do not feel the terrible cold. He stops and stamps down the snow to make it hard, jumps up and down, wraps his arms around him with all his might. But now on he goes lest those people go to bed and the light is put out, and what then? Almost exhausted and reason almost gone, he comes to the door and falls against it, and reason has fled. The door is opened and the unconscious boy drawn in and restoratives applied. It was late in the night before he became conscious, and then told of the men he left in the woods, that must perish if not rescued. I remember well when Martin came home and how excited we were to hear of his terrible journey from Muskegon. That was his last runaway. Additional Comments: "Recollections of A Busy Life," By Eli Fayette Ruggles, H. L. Ruggles & Co., Publishers, (published circa 1904) Transcribed by Peggy Barriskill Perazzo, December 2005 Transcription submitted to California Archives by Kellie Crnkovich with approval from Peggy Perazzo on 12/27/2005 File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/ca/yolo/history/1904/recollec/chapteri264ms.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.poppet.org/cafiles/ File size: 8.3 Kb